As it Seems
by VanillaJ1967
Summary: Perhaps once that seed has been planted, the tree of lies quickly grows around it. Merlin always told himself, another day. Next time. Another day. He'd tell him. When? Would he? He was having doubts himself that he ever would. And then Arthur asked. Hurt!Merlin


**This is the second Merlin One!shot I have co-written with my awesome, amazing, and talented friend, Samsquatch67. To anyone who is reading, THANK YOU! :D Hope you enjoy our little AU One!shot! ;)**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Merlin, Arthur or any other Merlin-related characters. Just borrowing. **

The cave was cold, and dark, but at least it was quiet. That was a plus. There was some light, from a fire, a fire that was starting to die even as it was created. Not enough wood and kindling around the cave, Merlin supposed.

"Aahhhwwh..." Merlin shifted on the cave floor, elbows resting against the solid ground as he tried to sit up. His arms shook madly and sent him back down. He coughed out sounds of pain. His chest hurt, his arms hurt, his head hurt, his back hurt, his legs hurt, he moaned in what could have been taken as a complaint. He was covered in bruising already, and cuts littered his body. It felt like his body was covered in popped blisters.

Arthur glanced up from his spot beside the fire, where he'd been attempting to get a pot of water to boil. It wasn't working amazingly well... yet. Arthur paused, setting another small piece of wood on the fire, and then stood up, walking toward Merlin.

"Sit still, Merlin!" Arthur commanded, placing a hand on the servant... his friend's shoulder, and pushing him down gently. He pulled off his cape, deciding that he really had no need of it here, and put it over Merlin. It would get cold that night, and Merlin was wounded.

Arthur sighed, frowning slightly. They were still in Cenred's kingdom. They were not allied with Cenred, and so there would be no help coming to them. They would have to wait until morning, then try to move again... this time, avoiding Cenred's men... hopefully. He looked at Merlin, wincing in sympathy at the purple bruises and multiple gashes and cuts.

"You know, if you weren't so clumsy, perhaps we'd be halfway to Camelot by now," Arthur muttered. He knew that wasn't true, and that the only reason Merlin was in this state was because he'd been noble and brave, not clumsy, but he teased none-the-less. With that, the young prince moved back to the fire, and looked at the water in the metal bucket. It wasn't boiling, but it would have to do. He needed to clean Merlin's wounds. Arthur was a prince, and while he acted arrogant, he wasn't always, at least... not when it counted.

Merlin huffed a laugh. "I could have let you come alone. But then you'd be bored. Maybe even dead," Merlin mused, forcing a grin. "So you must be glad I came, 'clumsy' self and all." The young wizard quaked, trying to ride out another seizing-like shudder. "When will we get back to Camelot?" he asked, his eyes distant, almost making the color look muted. "Gaius will by angry," he mumbled thoughtfully.

Arthur rolled his eyes and half his lip twitched upward in a smile. He shook his head, but then went on to answer Merlin's other question, and statement. "We'll be able to make it back in two days time, if we're lucky."

Then he thought... _'Are we ever? Rarely...'_ He didn't add that aloud. He smiled slightly, still thinking about Merlin's 'Then you'd be bored. Maybe even dead.' Arthur knew it was true. He knew far more than Merlin thought he did... He'd known, when Merlin had taken the poisoned chalice... when he himself had been in the cave getting the cure. He'd known when he'd seen the blue light... Somehow, he'd know it was…

Arthur shook his head. He retrieved the water from its place by the fire, and moved back to Merlin's side. "And Merlin, Gaius won't be mad at you. I think he'll understand..." he stated, making a face.

The prince focused on the task at hand, looking around with resignation as he searched for a cloth to use for Merlin's wounds. Finally, with a muttered complaint, the prince ripped the edge of his cape, telling Merlin that he would have to repair it later.

He dipped the red fabric in the warm water, then, went to work on a dirt-covered wound above the young servant's eye. Arthur knew he wasn't exactly 'gentle', but this wasn't something he normally did. "What do you know... your first REAL battle wound," Arthur teased.

"You said that the last time. And you know what else you did the last time?" Merlin looked at him expectantly, then blew through his next words with exasperation, "Destroyed something else I would have to mend later. Do you even know how much of a pain that is? Half of my life goes into what you wear, you know that, right?"' _The Once and Future Clothes,' _Merlin added to himself, and actually ended up laughing at that.

He quickly grimaced, clenching his eyes shut. Cursing under his breath, Merlin ignored the phantom fists and clubs slamming against his unprotected arms, hitting his torso, his legs as he had curled in on himself... Shaking his head, looked back at Arthur.

Arthur nodded, not missing the pained look on Merlin's face. "I did say that last time, but I didn't say it was your first REAL battle wound," he stated, gently thumping his fist against Merlin's arm. He went back to work on removing the dirt and dried blood from Merlin's face as his mind drifted back to the events that bad left them here, in this cave, with Merlin wounded...

_Cenred's men had come out of nowhere, there had been ten, no... more like twenty of them. Arthur hadn't expected this, and had been largely unprepared. The first of the men had reached him, and pulled him off his horse before he could react. He was on the ground, with the wind knocked out of him. _

_Even with the first setback, Arthur was up in a flash. He'd looked back, checking on Merlin, though he knew Merlin was alright... ever since he'd found out about..._

_*CLANK* The clash of a sword against his own drew him back to the fight. He lunged at the man before him, striking him down with ease. Another man took his place. Arthur blocked his first shot, and his second... 'One well aimed blow...' he told himself. He slashed with his sword, bringing it across the man's chest. He too fell beside the first one. __Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two men come at him. He began fighting them, switching his attention from one to the other. The prince of Camelot dodged, ducked, sliced and cut his way free of them, but the two kept coming, and were joined by a third._

_It was at that moment, that he saw Merlin, surrounded by at least five men. He was __fighting them off... poorly. Arthur headed toward him, when he was hit, knocked down by a hard blow with a... a club! Arthur grunted, and moved to stand. Now he too was surrounded by five men, and a sixth had come to join them. Arthur fought, and his attention was drawn into it._

_In a moment, he saw a sword swing toward him. He flinched, knowing that he couldn't switch opponents in time to catch the blow... it would be fatal. However, before the sword struck him, it was torn from the man's hand, wrenching away from him and flinging toward one of his own men. It hit with a sickening thud, and the man fell. __Arthur hadn't missed it... he knew. His eyes darted toward Merlin, who looked quickly away. Arthur fought his way through the remaining men around him, but n__ot before the others had started beating Merlin... clubs, booted feet, and fists all slammed against the young man. Arthur yelled in rage, then headed toward them..._

Arthur pulled himself from the memory. He ran the thumb and forefinger of his left hand over his chin, stroking an imaginary beard. His right hand was still occupied with a new, mud-coated scrape on Merlin's neck.

Merlin sighed, trying not to flinch away. He breathed through clamped teeth, making an unintentional hissing sound. "Arthur," he started, then paused. "Thank you," he finished simply, closing his eyes again. His magic seemed to sigh restlessly within him. He'd been so distracted, causing tree roots to subtly (At least, subtle as far as he was concerned) trip the men.

They'd attacked him, and he'd fought them off half with what he could reach, which so happened to be one of their fallen swords, and half with his magic, as 'quietly' as he could. Then the attack on Arthur, and by the time he tried to defend himself again, he couldn't pick up the fight again without his magic being revealed. And he didn't know why the thought of that had frightened him so.

Perhaps because once that seed has been planted, the tree of lies quickly grows around it. He always told himself, another day. Next time. Another day. He'd tell him. When? Would he? He was having doubts himself that he ever would.

Arthur nodded once. "Don't thank me yet, Merlin."

He propped Merlin up, pulled of his jacket, then rolled up his sleeves, revealing more bruises and scrapes. He vaguely wondered if anything was broken. Unfortunately, he didn't have the knowledge to fix it even if it were... that, he would leave up to Gaius when they got back to Camelot.

The longer he stared at the cuts and injuries, the more he wondered. Had he been right? Had he really seen what he thought he had on so many occasions? If so... why was Merlin still wounded? We didn't he just... get better? He decided he could ask... but, he had wanted Merlin to tell him... he'd wanted to be trusted. He hadn't wanted to just throw it out as a question. However, before he could stop himself, he blurted out the most none-sense question he'd ever heard from himself.

"Why didn't you protect yourself?"

There, he'd asked 'A' question... not actually the one he'd wanted to ask... but it worked.

Like he'd gone through a second beating, Merlin flinched away. He tried to cover up for it with a mumbled 'ow'. Everything in him twisted, begging him to say, to tell, and he realized it was magic. His magic, so it was part of him. And a rather large amount at that. "I did try," he said defensively. "Not all of us have been trained to kill since birth, as you put it yourself." He put a smile on his face.

"No, but that's not what I meant... I've seen things that I'd just... I tried to ignore. Merlin, there's something you're not telling me. It's because of the king, isn't it?" he asked, calling Uther, 'the king' as opposed to 'my father.'

"Yes-" Merlin spouted, "-Maybe, the point is, it isn't that I don't trust you, you see? I know your duty is to tell Uther anything regarding anything, and I wouldn't ask you to do anything rash, I'm just a servant, after all, and I can't leave your side, I have to keep this position, and just perhaps I don't want to be hated and forgotten for just being who I am!"

There was something wrong with his head. How badly had he been concussed? Pressing shaking fingers to his temples, Merlin rested his elbows on his knees, the pain swelling up once again.

Arthur laughed, a single, sharp, humorless, bark of a laugh, but a laugh none-the-less. "I know... " he stated, raising both hands and shrugging. "I'm not blind, Merlin... You think I've been oblivious to all the tree branches exploding over my head? Everytime a spear throws itself, or a trained swordsman loses his weapon... seemingly with no cause?" Arthur asked.

The prince carefully put one gloved hand out, patting the warlock's shoulder carefully, avoiding bruises.

_'At least,'_ Arthur mused, _'I'm not going crazy.'_ That he knew now. Not only was he not crazy, but he was perfectly sane. Well... maybe a bit crazy for what he was about to say. "I wouldn't want to do anything rash either. After all, if I told the king... then I'd lose the only good servant I'd ever had. Actually, you're a horrible servant, but I'd miss your annoying banter too much," Arthur stated. It was his promise; his way of telling Merlin that his secret was still safe.

He almost couldn't believe was he was doing, but he was going to. He was going to keep a secret from Uther, the king of Camelot. A secret that could get Merlin and himself killed. A secret that would be treason to keep. But Merlin had been loyal to him... more so than he deserved at times, and he knew it. What kind of king would he be, if he let Merlin be killed for something he'd never used to harm anyone?

"And Merlin... you're terrible at keeping secrets," he added.

Merlin stared, then laughed, silently at first. "Just like that?" he asked in shock, and he didn't know if he was grinning or gaping right at the moment. Of all the ways he'd imagined it, and he had imagined many ways, that had been one of the few he'd decided would not be happening. Coming up empty for any retorts, he just grinned.

"How else would it have gone? I'm not a girl, Merlin. I wasn't going to sit and stare sadly out a window because you didn't tell me. Now, don't think this changes anything, because it doesn't. We have to keep up appearances... so, you'll still have to mend that," Arthur stated, using a stick to point at the tattered edge of his cape where he'd torn it. "And I'll still want my armor polished," he added with a half smirk, gently elbowing Merlin in the side.

"But… we are equals, when no one is watching." the prince said with a grin.

"Keep up appearances. So you go back to being a supercilious prat?"

Arthur took off one of his gloves and smacked the back of Merlin's head with it, chuckling quietly as he did so. "Big word, Merlin... I know... I know... you know what it means."


End file.
